Ambiance
by m r s . w r i t i n g
Summary: A fluffy, romantic scene between Howl and Sophie, after a night of love making. Takes place after movie. Sophie is rather OOC. No plot, just fluff. Short read.


_Author's Note:_ I told myself I wouldn't post this. Because there's no plot to it, really. But I think it's pretty. It was a scene I made up in my head, and I enjoyed writing & reading it. Sophie is a tad OOC. So beware.

"Would you like to dye your hair back now?" Sophie inquired, lightly heading her way back to the bed. She was now, finally, her real age. Her silver hair had dispersed, along with the forgotten nightmare of those treacherous wrinkles. After years of calling herself ugly, the curse of old age raised her self esteem– that and the love of Howl – convincing her that she actually wasn't...(well, to be putting it bluntly) ugly. Especially compared to her old age. The Witch of the Waste's curse could even be considered a blessing in the eyes of some.

Howl peered up at her, casting the ambiance of his lazy smirk upon her small frame, through the strands of his disheveled hair, dazzling her. "Do you want me to? Do you prefer me blonde?" he teased.

She laughed. "Well, you just about tore the house down when I rearranged the bottles in the bathroom and you came out a red head. Not to mention you tried to melt." She fell onto the bed, next to Howl, basking in the heat of the sun rays breaking through the bedside window.

He rolled his eyes and turned his head, disgusted at the memory, and secretly, he was embarrassed. "Don't remind me…"

She laughed again at his brooding expression and reached her hand out to wipe away the strands of hair from his face. "Don't brood," she said soothingly, calming his heart. "I don't mind. If someone had turned my hair two different colours in less than five minutes, without warning, I would have been angry myself."

"But would you have tried to melt?" he retorted in a disdainful tone.

"Now that I wouldn't have done…" she smiled. " So, what's it gonna be?" She asked, again.

He paused, and for a minute he thought, gazing into space as those ideas rumbled through his mind. "You know, I think I like it like this…" he concluded aloud, turning his eyes back to her. " You don't seem to mind it, either." He smirked.

Oh golly, that smirk of his. It sent a wave of tantalizing warmth through her flesh, to her bones. "You looked handsome even with the red hair," she sighed, as she turned her body away. She sat up straight again, wrapping the sheet around her. "You look handsome to me, all the time." She padded across the hardwood floor, and slid the closet door open.

As he watched her covered frame search for a dress, he said aloud, obviously thinking the dirtiest, "Why don't we share a room?"

Eyes widening, becoming alert at the sudden subject change, he stole her eyes. "What?" She asked, dumbfounded, and a little too dazzled to thing straight, dazzled at this…amazing subject matter. Before she fell to the floor, she refocused on the business of choosing something to wear for the day.

"You heard me." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

Her heart jumped three feet as she heard his feet touch the floor, and his footsteps as he approached her across the tiny room. He was naked. She was sure. Two strong arms snaked around her small waist and she melted as he crushed her to his chest, too many levels of content to deal with, the ambience sedating her like a drug. Her eyes fell closed, she sighed, and she sank into him, until she remembered that he was expecting an answer. "Um…I don't know." But actually, she probably did know. In fact, subconsciously, she did. Her brain just wasn't going to work. She knew it. He probably knew it too.

"You do," he replied, pulling the sheet from her form. It fell to the floor, with no arguments. "Here," he reached into the closet, pulling out a dress, and pressed it to her chest lightly, "wear this one."

"Oh," she looked down to observe his choice. "Okay…" The dress was nice. Plain, but prettier than what she wore when she first came here. When she aged, she realized that she suited her clothes as an old lady rather than a young woman. As soon as she regained her youth, she made sure to rearrange her wardrobe to suit her newly reacquired young age.

He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder, and released her, almost to her dismay. "We'll talk about room-sharing later," he proclaimed. He gathered his clothes off her floor, just as she gathered the sheet again. "I have to see to some things. But I'll be back tonight."

"What? You're leaving now?" She inquired, her brows furrowing.

"It's a long journey, even by magic," he smiled as he adjusted his pants to a modest level.

"Alright…" she sighed. She had things to do, anyhow. Cleaning, chores, taking care of Markel, and tending to Cal properly. "So I'll see you tonight?" she asked hopefully.

He gave an amused smile. "Yes, I will see you tonight." Now fully dressed, he approached her, and finally, first of the morning; he kissed her, leaving her to bask in the after effects of his kiss.


End file.
